431.Life ended there.

  Only the close-guard attendants remained now.

  The first guard lunged.

  The distance was already closed, the motion lightning-short.

  A single line of blood was drawn through the air, and the guard collapsed as if his neck had come loose.

  The ship rocked, but the body did not.

  Life ended there.

  The second guard twisted his blade toward Park Seong-jin’s flank.

  Park’s sword spine tapped down with a dull click, pinning the edge.

  After the brief ring of scraping metal came the sound of flesh parting.

  Park did not meet force with force; he broke the grain, cut the flow.

  The third guard charged, howling.

  “For His Majesty— for His Majesty—”

  Before the words could finish, Park turned and cut past the shoulder as if merely brushing it.

  The guard fell without a sound.

  The blade that grazed the shoulder had severed the vital channels as it passed.

  Three bodies lay on the deck.

  Only Zhu Yuanzhang remained.

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  Zhu Yuanzhang’s breathing split with a sharp hitch.

  He had always stood among others.

  Now he stood alone.

  That fact broke him first.

  Park Seong-jin walked across the swaying deck and faced him.

  Zhu Yuanzhang stumbled backward until his back touched the railing.

  The sense that there was nowhere left to retreat climbed his spine.

  He screamed, wringing his throat,

  “Do not come—did I not tell you not to come? I bear the Mandate of Heaven. Heaven—Heaven chose me!”

  The words “Mandate of Heaven” trembled and scattered in his mouth.

  Only a frantic gesture remained, grasping at the sky and trying to set it before him.

  Park muttered under his breath,

  “Is that how one chosen by Heaven lives?”

  Zhu Yuanzhang tore a steel mace from his belt and swung with a shaking arm.

  The heavy arc split the air, far from Park’s feet.

  Zhu Yuanzhang fell to both knees.

  “Spare me. Spare me, I beg you. What—what wrong have I done?”

  The sound had crossed beyond the boundary between a scream and an order.

  Smaller than the rush of water, yet clear upon the deck.

  Park Seong-jin’s sword tip stopped before the nape of Zhu Yuanzhang’s neck.

  At that instant, the wind at the center of the lake changed.

  The current that split the smoke and the subtle flow beneath the surface shifted together.

  Within that grain, Park’s perfected awareness read a point of arrival.

  If this man lives, the bloodshed in Jiangnan will lessen.

  This man still has a use.

  If the blade is sheathed here, the tally of deaths will turn.

  Park closed his eyes, then opened them.

  “I came to kill,” he said.

  After a beat, he corrected himself.

  “Capture comes first.”

  Zhu Yuanzhang lifted his trembling head.

  A glint of life flashed—then went out.

  Park sheathed his sword.

  The metallic whisper sliding into the scabbard rang clearer than cannon fire.

  He seized Zhu Yuanzhang by the shoulder.

  “I came to take you.”

  The grip carried weight.

  Zhu Yuanzhang’s body folded.

  Breath crushed from him, balance collapsed.

  When his arms and waist were bound, strength drained from his legs.

  His feet dragging across the deck marked a change of station.

  Park Seong-jin took hold of Zhu Yuanzhang’s breastplate and walked him toward the bow of the ship.

  Over Lake Poyang—where flame and smoke were knotted together—the Goryeo lieutenant led a single man forward.

  At that moment, movement on the lake ceased.

  On the decks of Chen Youliang’s ships, on the Ming light craft, sound sank away.

  “The emperor—”

  “That is—”

  “A man is taking the emperor—”

  Words broke off.

  Only gazes remained.